Medical Leave
by Leggsy
Summary: When Zarya suffer's an injury in the field, Mercy offers her services to help her recover, but her methods and solutions aren't always welcome, even if it means Zarya might never see the battlefield again. And though she's already in recovery, she might prove to be Mercy's most challenging patient yet.
1. Prologue

Private infirmaries were lonely, that was one of Zarya's few complaints. But since the recall there were a lot less agents, and a lot less serious injuries. Well, she wasn't exactly an agent of Overwatch, that seemed to confuse a lot of the members, but they didn't seem to mind having her around at times, and when she got hurt on a mission they insisted on taking care of her. Though more accurately in this case, Mercy insisted on taking care of her and Reinhardt carried her back and wouldn't let her leave. Now, they were the two that visited her the most. She could count on her hand how many times someone else came to see her. So when they didn't come to check, she was alone, watching TV and the news reports, looking away whenever it covered Overwatch's rumoured resurgence.

What was she doing here? She wasn't in Overwatch, and she didn't need private care. It had been a week since the surgery already, but it felt like months staring at an empty infirmary, rows of beds, no dividers, lots of pictures, some old and a few that were more recent, some even catching her in them. The photos were over a desk kept very neat, but with one patient, she would have been surprised if there was a mess. Mercy seemed like a neat person, after all.

And as if just thinking of her was enough to call her, the door opened followed by the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor. Zarya leaned forward slightly, but she only received a raised brow before she smiled in return and leaned back again, intent on avoiding another lecture. Mercy was kind, but when it came to patients defying orders she didn't hesitate to correct the behaviour- for their health, of course.

"Please tell me I'm free to go." Zarya started before rolling her shoulders, but it got her anther harsh stare before she stopped.

"Of course you can, you're not a prisoner here…"

Though neither of them held any real hostility in their looks, there was a growing avoidance. It wasn't a comfortable matter, maybe that's why so few people visited her, or because she was still a stranger to most of them other than being a celebrity and a war hero.

"You're welcome to leave, but-" She trailed off and forced herself to look away.

"I said no." Zarya cut in. "We've discussed this, and I do not change my mind."

"Yes, I've been told…" She trailed off with a tired look. "I just think you should consider what this could mean for you, and what we do here. I doubt you'd be cleared to go on any more missions, and your cooperating with us is already a special case; it never would have happened if you didn't know Reinhardt so well." But she knew they were willing to take just about anyone since the recall, even if Zarya refused to become an official agent.

"I can still fight."

"You can't even hold your weapon anymore."

There wasn't another word but Zarya delivered a swift punch to the air. "That is my weapon."

Mercy's gaze was burning now, but it softened when she saw Zarya flinch back and rub her shoulder. And the uncomfortable avoidance broke, because it couldn't be avoided any longer as their stares drifted down, fixating on what wasn't there anymore, the stump that remained of Zarya's left arm. They were silent.

"I know it's not easy to think about for you, but I can make it more human-like. At a glance, no one will be able to tell it's a bionic arm."

"I can't go home and be seen with that, like omnic scraps."

"Does it really matter what anyone thinks?"

Zarya paused for a moment, but her expression remained hardened and unwavering.

"I dedicated my life to bringing pride and protection to my people. If I went home with that, how could I promise to keep anyone safe when I couldn't even protect myself?"

And the two fell silent, back to trying to avoid looking at what remained of her arm.

"You need to rest at least, so I'm going to request you be taken off any missions until you've had time to adjust, if you're even allowed to continue like this."

"I can still fight." Zarya got to her feet, stumbling for a moment before she braced herself on the bed, and she hesitated there. To become a symbol of strength and then this… She was relieved to be allowed private care. "Face it, you need me around." She laughed.

Mercy was not amused and watched her worriedly as if she was made of glass as opposed to the strongest woman in the world.

"You know, we got by alright before you showed up." She shrugged but continued before Zarya could say another word. "And just so you know, I won't be going on any missions either- I was allowed to stay with you in order to make your recovery as quick and painless as possible. You'll be back to fighting in a matter of weeks, if you'd still be allowed on missions like that."

"They won't be able to stop me." Zarya laughed before wrapping her arm around Mercy's shoulder as if a friendly gesture, but it was for the sake of keeping herself upright until she regained her balance.

"We'll see about that."


	2. Safe House

Once they were finally cleared to leave the base, Zarya and Mercy were lead to a car just at the edge of the base. The windows were tinted so it was impossible to see in or out, but with Zarya just a volunteer, she wasn't actually allowed to know the locations of each base she visited. But the secrecy wasn't enough to convince her to join just for the sake of gaining their trust. She refused help getting inside the car, but Mercy expected as much. It was large with a long row of seats on either side, obviously meant to carry a team, but Zarya had to lean forward to avoid hitting her head on the roof of it. And with the windows blacked out enough to keep out the sunlight, the interior was illuminated with overhead lights that washed the black interior with a blue glow.

They sat beside each other in silence, fixated on the mounted television normally used for briefings which now showed the news. But eventually Zarya muted it with a shrug.

"I have watched news all week." She explained before they both sat in silence again.

But it was the silence that made them realize they had very little to talk about. Outside of missions and Zarya's injury, they rarely spoke to each other and only seemed to have one friend in common. Suddenly, living with each other for Zarya's recovery didn't seem ideal, but it was too late now.

In fact it was one of the only times they had seen each other in something other than their armour. Mercy wore a white collared blouse and slacks with mustard yellow heels while Zarya wore a loose, black tank top and jeans with sneakers and a large jacket, the left sleeve pinned up to keep it out of the way.

"We're going to safe house nearby for the length of your recovery." Mercy informed her, desperate to break the silence.

Zarya however, simply grunted in confirmation as she started at her feet. She fidgeted, running her hand along her own leg- she might have clasped her hands together in order to keep still if she still could.

"I understand you were quite the household name back home."

"Were?" Zarya scoffed. "Perhaps you agents are just very isolated, yes? My fame is not exclusive to Russia."

"Yes, we are more isolated this time around… We try not to draw attention to ourselves, which is why I was surprised to hear someone of your repute volunteered."

"Yet, here I am."

"A favour for Reinhardt, perhaps- he seems quite fond of you."

"Yes."

There was a pause, but Mercy continued when Zarya didn't seem willing to elaborate.

"Can I ask why you wanted to volunteer? Fame seems like something you're quite used to, but you're not going to find that with us, maybe before, but now you'd be branded a criminal if anyone knew of our resurgence and your cooperation with us."

"Money." Zarya shrugged, but even she didn't seem convinced by it.

"I doubt that."

Zarya turned her head away and stared at her reflection in the window, too tinted to even be called that, and the new, smaller scars she had earned during the mission that landed her in the infirmary, the most notable one now running through her lip down to her chin.

"Volunteers help, yes? I wanted to help."

Mercy just nodded before smiling.

"You sound like I did when I joined, before the recall of course." She laughed faintly. "I knew I could help more people if I joined, but that doesn't mean I was happy about it… But volunteering wasn't an option back then."

Zarya couldn't help but laugh hard enough to make her seat shake.

"I did not think you the type to hesitate; it is not a good trait in doctors."

"I have my reasons, the same reasons that made me hesitant to return."

With that Zarya grew faint before clearing her throat.

"Well, I am glad you did… I know I could have lost more if you had not been there. You saved most of me." She said before rubbing what remained of her left arm.

Mercy only nodded and the two rode in silence again.

As the ride drew out, they only broke the silence every so often to exchange stories about Reinhardt and their own mission mishaps until they arrived. When they climbed out of the car Zarya flinched back as she could finally see sunlight again. Mercy laughed and shut the door behind her, and the car was quick to leave them there- that being a nearly empty parking lot absent of cameras or anything else that could track their arrival.

"The safe house is just a few blocks from here." Mercy waved her along and Zarya stayed at her side, never slowing down for a moment. As they rounded the corner it became more crowded and Zarya was forced to walk behind her.

"I thought we were going somewhere more… isolated." She said quietly.

"This is the closest safe house to the base, and I thought you were done with staying somewhere so remote. It might be good for you to get out."

"This is not what I had in mind." She said as she ran her hand through her hair.

Mercy pursed her lips in thought. She couldn't recall ever seeing her so uncomfortable. With a sigh she turned and pulled down the empty sleeve of her jacket.

"Here," She started before pulling off the other sleeve and letting the jacket drape over her shoulders instead.

At the very least it would draw less attention to it, and Zarya seemed grateful for it. And when Mercy started walking again, Zarya didn't miss a beat. They kept up there pace until they came to an old-looking building with a brick exterior, a faded mural on the side or advertisement, it was hard to tell in its purposefully neglected state. It stood several stories tall and looked more like an old factory as opposed to a safe house with a sign on the front that read 'King City Lofts.'

"Not much of a house." Zarya laughed, relaxing a bit once they were out of sight and inside the building.

"But it's still safe." Mercy assured her as they came to the elevator.

It was silent inside, no music or other residents, as Mercy pressed the button for the top floor. And they didn't break that silence as they watched the number above the doors rise before a final ding opened them to a bare hallway and only three doors.

"From what I understand it was a gift." Mercy started as she fumbled with the key. "I try not to ask a lot of questions." She shrugged and unlocked the door, allowing Zarya in first.

But she stopped in the doorway and furrowed her brow at the sight of it. It still felt like a gutted factory, the same exposed brick walls likely older than either of them, and high ceilings with steel supports. But nothing else inside felt old. Modern, earth-toned furniture surrounded a tall fire place between two large windows that looked over the city. There was an open kitchen just off to the side of it. Everything else was down a single hallway as far as she could tell.

"A generous gift." Zarya added, but the sight only made her feel more out of place. "It's much larger than my home." But Zarya was accustomed to simple living; fame didn't change that for her.

"That makes two of us." Mercy hummed, though Zarya couldn't tell if she was pleased with it or not. "I'm not sure what I was expecting." She added under her breath as she walked to one of the large windows and stared down at the street just below them.

"Is this what all the safe houses look like?"

"No, some are essentially sheds. We were lucky this was the closest one."

Zarya shrugged and walked down the single hall, peeking inside each room, finding just a bathroom, an office, storage, a laundry room, and one bedroom. She stopped.

"Maybe not so lucky." She said.

Mercy looked away from the window to follow her. So they booth stood at the edge of the room, staring at the sole king-sized bed waiting for the other to acknowledge it first.

"You did tell them we were both staying, yes?" Zarya questioned.

"Yes…"

"I will take the couch."


End file.
